Dark of the Moon
by beaker67
Summary: The Odyssey/ISS series continues. The lull in mission training is all too brief. Kurt brings Zach Ambrose back to consciousness, and the Travelor finally meets Maj. Flynn. It all happens, along with a new love who wants more than to simply be her doctor.


ODYSSEY/ISS

An _**Odyssey 5 **_tie-in series

Disclaimer: **Odyssey 5 **is the creative property of Manny Coto, Showtime Networks, and Sony Pictures Television. Its characters are used without authorization, but with respect.

All other characters are the creative property of the author and may not be used without permission.

Rated 'M' for mature audiences. Strong language, violence, and **adult** situations.

**Story 6: Dark of the Moon**

* * *

**Prelude-**

**Late June, 2003**

Mali got out of the taxi that had dropped her in front of **67 Forester Lane**.

She fished out a few dollars to pay the taxi driver on top of the automatic fare that got sucked out of her plastic. She took a long look at the dark house on the moonlit night before making her way up the driveway and through a side door. Paige's roses had new growth that was yielding masses of buds soon to turn into blooms. A few had already opened and bloomed during the Spring. That the hips were still on bespoke that no gardener now lived at this address.

She was loathe to wake up Chuck or Neil at this time of the night. Wanted just a few more minutes of peace with her thoughts. Before she would have to face lying her ass off once more.

There had been a couple weeks spent in Russia for training. That much was true. What was false was that the **entire **time had been spent there. No mention would ever be made of her having been in South Korea. No mention made of her having been on Cadre business either. No mention made of the fact she'd enjoyed it immensely, sick as that would sound to most people. The killing of somebody who was a threat always did that for her.

Oh, how mention was made of Senator Brian Perry's death. Speculation leveled on North Korea. Refusal to accept guilt so in character. Only the barest few knew that North Korea was telling the complete truth. Even among those that knew, nobody much cared what North Korea had to say.

Security had been extremely tight at 'Star City' with the new, Afghan War in full swing. Fears of Taliban/Al Qaeda activity ran high into paranoia. NASA allowed only the barest few- who were not astronauts- to travel to 'Star City'. Non-NASA personnel were even more tightly regulated. Essential personnel only meant nobody but those training for active missions. If you weren't up, you weren't there.

Chuck, being an astronaut not up for a mission, was retained in Houston. Permission for him to go was denied. He'd tried many, many times. Met always with the same answer.

Truth was, he might have been able to go to Russia if not for two things: Mali hadn't been in Russia the whole time and she was on the Cadre payroll. Both meant that she was busy earning her pay doing other tasks not common to astronauts. Even the staff was in-the-dark about where she had gone. 'Specialized training' was used to denote her status and 'DoD' used to shut her fellows up....and from snooping around for her. Secret, military payloads sometimes required equally covert training. A little-known, admitted fact among those who flew into space. Enough to quiet any space jockey with two brain cells not fried by galactic radiation and who wished to remain employed.

She watched the taxi depart into the humid, Texas night. A blur of red lights that disappeared around a corner. She stifled a yawn. Fingers fished for her set of housekeys. Had made sure to have them ready since two days previous. The odd, 'lag week' had popped up as unexpectedly for her as for the rest. Those who wished to return Stateside were allowed to- provided they got back a day before the resumption of training.

Sliding the key into the lock, she turned it and felt the tumblers click in unison. The door opened silently.

Scents came to her. The smell of home, not of a dank dorm room. What shocked her was that she wasn't stepping over garbage and signs of how some men were when no females were picking up after them. Both of them seemed to know that having things clean was better all around. It was something of a shock. Even the dorms smelled like locker rooms at times, but not the Taggart house.

She'd gotten the news that Neil got early acceptance into Harvard

Also of his rejection from NASA on the first go-around. It seemed that the same history hadn't adhered to this point. He would have to keep trying- as so many others had - to enter NASA on sheer determination. Mali counseled his going to College and to keep trying. The kid would be booking off to higher education scant months from now. Chuck would be left alone for the better part of a year while she was in training. Then she would be spending six months aboard the ISS. The '**Columbia**' disaster made the missions of longer duration to economize on training costs. The Government was questioning the viability of the entire Shuttle program. There was a hell of a push to begin scrapping it altogether. The mission would start in April of 2004. She would not be back until late October. The prospect was not one wholly of joy. The sense of disconnect would be a mutual one. Six months of exposure to radiation would further up her to the limit that kept astronauts from further flights into space. It would also raise her susceptibility to cancer. Still, Expedition 15 was one she definitely would be part of- hell or high water.

The time away would either make or break their relationship. Especially when the Synths and Sentients were prone to do anything in the interim.

She shut the door quietly and turned the deadbolt lock again. Silently went up the stairs. Could hear the night sounds of the house: the distant fridge running, Neil lightly snoring, the sound of the wind with an approaching storm front. Saw the shut door of the kid's room. Smiled, then looked at the door at the end of the hall. Had wanted to see that door for months. Even when she was in the deep of her mission.

Before she knew it, her hand was on the knob. Had waited so many months to be right here, right now.

She opened the door and peered in. Her duffle felt heavy in her hand. Saw Chuck asleep under a sheet. As always, wearing a t-shirt and boxers. Ever ready for the off chance of being awoken in the middle of the night. The old, military habit still clung to him. The awful scenario of perhaps another body in bed with him was dashed in a heartbeat.

No chance. His fidelity to her was intact, not that she needed to worry. Once Chuck Taggart's mind settled on what he wanted, there was damn little that would throw him off. She knew enough about him to know he'd never let go of her.

Again, she smiled and walked to drop the duffle by her dresser. Kicked off her shoes. Went sockfoot. over to the bed and leaned over the sleeping man.

No nightmares seemed to plague him tonight.

Only a faint whiff of tobacco on his breath, and mint. He always brushed his teeth before bed.

She leaned over him, her face drawing close to his. Able to feel the heat radiating off his skin. She took in a breath and lightly kissed him. The warmth and taste of his lips was a welcome one after so long away. She could only imagine how it would feel after a six month stint on the ISS.

His reaction upon waking was one of wonderment, then response upon realization. His arms snaked about her and pulled her down to him. Didn't care that he tangled her up in the sheets as he rolled her over, onto her back. Pinned her down. Seemed afraid that she might vanish. He broke off the kiss to look at her. Her body was strong and supple again. It was too obvious that she was back in training. That alone was enough to turn him on.

"When the hell did you come in?"

"0130. I didn't want to wake you. Took a taxi home. They started the 'Lag Week' early. I opted to come stateside before they could complain."

It was about all Mali could say, before Taggart nearly sucked the breath out of her with another kiss. His hands were greedy in wanting to feel her. Lust emerged quickly and took her in with him. Her clothes were coming off like a snake shedding its skin. The only problem was that she had a bit more on than he did. Not that he was slow in the task of removing them. Not by a long shot.

After all that had gone on, this intimacy was all she honestly wanted.

* * *

**Eight Weeks Earlier**

**April, 2003**

It came as little surprise to Kurt Mendel that his best work came after a round of sex with a usually, unattached woman. The whole thing seemed to clear the fog out of his mind so that he could work on a problem with a greater rapidity than normal.

Tamera Delling was proving to be very helpful in his latest work; finding a way to bring back Zach Ambrose from his Synth, 'brain-sucking abortion' encounter with Kurt's doppelganger.

Kurt had been at a loss to finding ways to bring the teen back into anything but the persistent, vegetative, coma state. The visits to the hospital had grown less, but Kurt's work grew more fevered. Zach Ambrose was declining, healthwise.

Kurt still had remnants from his cloning work.

The ability of Synth bodies to recuperate quickly was something that he took to exploring. He was amazed at the amount of recovery a Synth could do, if given a chance and not Taser-fried to death by people like Chuck.

Mendel understood Chuck's rage at the loss of Paige, but not the need to kill without trying to understand more about what the enemy they all were fighting was. He never gotten the chance to privately query Mali about her years as a Synth. In those times she was actually about their group now, Chuck was always there- hovering like a bodyguard.

Kurt could understand a bit of that, though. Mali had spent more time in a hospital than anything since coming to Houston. All the information she had in her skull couldn't be picked until- and unless- Kurt came up with a serious reason for wanting to know. He certainly didn't know how she'd take knowing that he was working on bringing a comatose kid back to consciousness via a Synth-based formula.

As Kurt looked at the computer screen, he watched the interaction of the Synth organisms in the cells from a rat brain. Even though the animal had died days ago, the Synth cells attempted to repair and bring the tissue back to life. He hadn't expected that it would adjust to a non-human test subject, but it was. It was very promising for formulating something.

What it couldn't tell Kurt was how it would affect Zach Ambrose. What form of Zach would wake from months in a coma?

He thought briefly of Claire, Zach's mother. Then thought of Tamera, whose naked form was in his bed and sleeping off three, solid hours of sex. He couldn't fault her penchant for imagination and role-play. Indeed, he was anticipating another round once he wrapped up this latest entry.

He tore his eyes from the pale moonlight on her breasts to look at the computer screen. Like a magnet, his eyes went back to the breasts. Scientific pursuits could wait, for now. Especially when his dick was goading him to find a warm, wet place to hole up in once more.

True to his nature, Kurt Mendel went back to bed. The computer left on to calculate some more on the assignment given it.

* * *

**Next Day**

**Downtown Houston**

It wasn't often that Mali did any type of shopping. It was even rarer to see her window-shopping on any street in any city. What occupied the lives of most women was absent in her. It had always been that way. It was like her tendency to never don makeup unless she absolutely had to. There was little impetus to change either habit.

Unlike so many of her military peers, Mali never invested much in buying things from overseas assignments when she was in the military. Her parents accumulated so much shit over the span of a few decades and gave more care to the stuff than they ever did to her.

She recalled her childhood as not a very pleasant memory. For her now, accumulating things was next to last on her list of priorities. She was more of a type to buy only what was absolutely necessary. Not that Chuck didn't have his own ways of buying things for her.

He knew her taste ran to the useful and practical. Hence, he took to finding things that she could use. Not to mention buying a cashmere sweater or two since she felt cold sometimes.

Mali passed yet another window displaying jewelry she would never wear in a million years. She damn well had the money, but it was better spent on buying a new piece of equipment or something useful for her upcoming ISS mission. Of course, she still had her formidable collection of CDs for ISS and NASA work. One of the few things brought down from St. Mark's and stored in the Taggart basement, along with her little 'gun corner'. She would do a final cull of what she would take up to the ISS shortly before launch next year.

In the meantime, Neil Taggart freely borrowed them- on the lone condition that they be free of any scratches, dirt, or fingerprints.

Mali was about to call it quits on trying to find something for Neil's impending 18 th birthday when something in an antique-shop window caught her eye and brought back a flood of disbelief...and memories.

Toys in the Flynn household were very few and very seldom seen.

George Flynn was a tyrant about the matter. If he saw one outside of Mali's room, it got thrown away. There was no recourse, no debate, no chance of getting another. Mali learned hard and quick not to have them out.

Mali did recall the day she came home from kindergarten and went into her very neat bedroom. 'Herbert' always had the pride of place in the middle of her pillows. The stuffed koala bear had been with her since she was a toddler. It had been puked on a few times, hit the floor in the night many times, even suffered the indignity of not being Mali's bedmate anymore- but he remained as a cherished item. She had placed him in the morning- after making her bed- and before going to breakfast, then school. Nobody should have moved him. He had broken no rule about toys in the Flynn household. Not any that she knew of.

Now, he was gone.

Mali knew better than to ask where 'Herbert' had gone. Knew better than to cry or plead to know where he'd went. She already knew what had happened; Dad had gotten into a mean fit and had ordered Mom to get rid of it.

Even at five years old, Malinda Flynn knew better than to show any sign of it having bothered her. She would cry later. In her dark bedroom. After her overbearing parents went to sleep. Likely after a noisy romp of sex. They always did that when her father came home after a deployment. She had heard the discussions about trying for 'another baby' when her parents thought she wasn't in earshot.

Malinda Flynn now looked at 'Herbert' in the window of an antique store; set prominently in front of a load of vintage toys. Most seemed from the 20s through the 60s. 'Herbert' was made in the mid-60s. She debated a second about going into the store. Had a feeling of knowing that the price was likely far more than would be reasonable. Such stores often charged loads for pieces of absolute crap. Still, she set foot inside the musty store and turned to look at the window display from the back. A piece of plexiglass with a keylocked door prevented her from lifting the bear to eye it closer.

"Ah, the rare adult who still recalls her toys?"

She turned to see a black man emerge from the back of the store. Clean-shaven and well-kept, he obviously was either hired or the owner. Also very well-spoken.

"I was interested in the stuffed koala. How much are you asking for him?"

The man seemed to know what she would go to without a further thought. Stepped away from the register and counter.

"That one is not for sale. It is the personal toy of the owner."

Mali nodded, more to herself than him. There was no point looking through the rest of the store. She moved to leave.

"Alright. Thank you for your time."

The man seemed taken aback.

"I can bring it out to let you look at it."

"Really no point. The item is- as you said- 'not for sale'."

Mali took another few steps toward the door. The man persisted. Tried to step between her and the door.

"Please. Let me bring it out for you."

Mali's demeanor turned defensive. Her voice came out with a low-toned menace.

"Back the fuck off or I will break your fucking neck to get out of here."

The man stepped away. Watched Mali open the door. His expression almost sad.

"You never forgave him, did you?"

Mali heard the man's impertinent, personal comment and slammed the door behind her anyway. Was back out into the street. Walked a couple, angry blocks before she saw the man appear in front of her. She stopped abruptly.

"Please, listen to me, Major. I didn't mean to put you on the defensive."

"How the fuck do you know me, or my rank?"

"Who doesn't know the survivor from Silver City? No, beyond that, I know quite a bit about you."

Mali nodded. She was ready to press the 'Red Alert' button on her cell phone inside her jacket pocket. The Police would certainly like to bring in a stalker.

"IS that so? You also know how the Houston Jail looks from the wrong side of the bars?"

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Travelor. I believe you know a common friend of ours- The Seeker?"

The man/being saw recognition slowly filter into her face. It knew that she was weighing her response to him now.

"Exactly who the fuck are you?"

Mali said, regarding the man more intensely than before.

"That I will tell you. Back at the shop."

* * *

Kurt deliberately chose a time when he knew Claire would not be in residence at her son's bedside. He was taking the type of risk that he knew could easily backfire on him. Injecting anybody with a formula derived from Synths was a calculated risk.

He weighed all the pros and cons of the matter. Ultimately it boiled down to doing **something **rather than nothing. Taking a chance rather than wait for the inevitable. Taking out the hypodermic, he tore open the alcohol swab package and wiped down the part of Zach's arm that would take the needle. The next 24 hours would tell the most.

As he slid the fine needle in and pressed the plunger, he watched the white fluid enter into the boy. Hoped against hope that he would be removed from his coma. Hoped too that Zach Ambrose would find a resolution to his current state.

* * *

Chuck looked over the rim of his reading glasses as Mali set the stuffed bear on the counter in front of him. His doing the daily crossword was suspended by the sight of a child's toy looking back at him with glass eyes and a black glass nose. He looked at it, then at her.

Mali had gone to the fridge for a bottle of water. Felt drained after the short interaction with Travelor. Whatever the being might be, it was an energy vampire to deal with. It was time to ask Chuck what he knew of it.

"I hadn't thought you got into stuffed Teddy Bears."

His voice held a faint twinge of playfulness.

Mali winced.

"Tell me what you know of _The Travelor_."

Chuck sat back in the chair and removed his glasses. The name brought back the image of his dead father back to him. The whole episode had been cathartic and quite out of the norm. He'd watched his father drive off- to his final fate- yet again. Then again, nothing was normal about any of the lives of their group this time around.

"You only met him now?"

Mali touched the furry ears of the toy fondly.

"This bear was my favorite toy from my childhood. My father, nasty prick that he was, threw it out without telling me when I was very small. I hated the hell out of him for it. Today, I saw it in an antique-store window downtown. A shop, seemingly run by one _Mr. Travelor_. It told me that it knows the whole crew."

"The Travelor is ......he's here to make sure we all stay on 'the mission' to save Earth. He uses different ways to get to us. With me, it was my father. With Neil, a friend who drowned at Summer Camp. Kurt and Angela were shown the son they might have had. Sarah was given faint hope for Corey's cancer."

Taggart set the paper off to the side.

"So he gave you a toy from your childhood?"

"Its not all. It said as much. Told me to expect a 'visit'. Didn't say who. Honestly, I can't stay here to find out past Sunday, as you know."

Mali took a drink of water and looked at the bear. Seemed torn as to what to do with it now.

The impending trip to Russia was looming too close to be backed out of. The start of nearly two years of training was in the air. There was also Cadre business, but Chuck was oblivious to that. It needed to stay that way. She recalled Travelor's parting words to her. Words she said aloud. Repeated with a scoff in her voice.

"_Anything is possible_."

Taggart picked up the stuffed koala. He had the oddest feeling of the thing being quite connected to a different Mali. One not hard-bitten by experience and life. A little child he would have liked to find out more about. Mali never spoke much about family or life with her parents. What he'd heard hadn't sounded like a normal childhood for a daughter.

"Heavy for its size."

"Filled with navy beans. I know, I once did 'surgery' on him to find out. My mom pissed and moaned about the mess on the floor. It was one of the few times she didn't tell my father about something I'd done."

Mali watched Chuck look the bear over and set it back on the counter.

"You'll see the black thread stitching on his underside."

Chuck tipped it and saw the threadwork. Set it back upright. The bear had certainly seen enough use through time. Parts of his 'hide' were thin from use as a toy..and companion.

"You have a name for him?"

Mali gave a slight smile.

"Herbert."

"_Herbert_."

Chuck mulled the name aloud. Thought it a good one.

"Where'd you come up with that?"

"Always struck me as a name of somebody NOT like my father."

"Well, darling, let me say that having an asshole father is not something I am unfamiliar with.

You think Travelor will pop up your old man for you?"

"I would rather hope not. My feelings for him are far from....congenial."

Mali said, taking another drink of water.

Chuck sighed. Then looked at her face. It seemed worried about what might occur. He knew that her relations with her parents had been anything but great. If his father was bad, George Flynn was a damn sight worse. At least, from what little he'd heard.

"I can say that if the bastard shows up here,** it **better play nice."

"I'd hope that perhaps Travelor would send my mother to explain why she stuck by his nasty ass all those years and treated me little better than dogshit for all of them. She's never explained that one to me. Not before she washed-up dead in Alaska."

Mali looked at him a moment. Changed the subject before it got to her.

"Anything else new?"

"My sister is coming in for Neil's birthday."

Chuck said, looking at the crossword again. Knew why she'd changed the subject abruptly. Heard the distinct silence and looked up again.

"That's nice of her."

Mali took the water bottle and went to scrutinize the daily mail. Kept her voice plain. Jenny had never come out and said it, but Mali knew she was disliked.

Chuck watched Mali. If only she knew why Jennifer Taggart-Powell viewed her as an intruder into the Taggart household. He had more than one 'discussion' with her about Mali. Jenny had 'heard'- from her ex-husband's 'military friends' that somebody like Mali was a fake. That women could never become Rangers, much less anything near to a combat role. That the whole idea of her being such was a fabrication to hide other issues. Jenny even proposed that the whole thing was an elaborate ruse- along with being a fellow astronaut- to allow Mali to sidle up to him. Felt that Chuck's widower status attracted the wrong type of women around her brother.

Of course, Jenny knew nothing about Kurt and him traveling to Washington State to see Mali last year. Knew nothing of the impromptu trip to Montana. Knew nothing about the Cadre, four years as a Synth, the ISS, the implosion of the Earth, or who exactly shot up the restaurant dining room in Silver City. Taggart's sister operated based on insufficient information and uneducated hunches. Not to mention that her ex-husband's **friends **were so uninformed and far out of the current military that they should bother more with cracking books than talking shit about subjects they knew nothing about. Most of them had last seen active service in the Reagan Era.

If Mali had taught Chuck anything about such encounters it was how to listen with amusement, neither agree of disagree, and ultimately pitch the rambling for what it was: idle chat.

"She'll be here tomorrow."

Mali tried not to sigh. She'd wanted time for just the two of them. Still, she didn't protest. At least Jenny cared about her brother and would do anything for him. Amelia Taggart, their mother, wouldn't have things any other way. Even if it was observing life passing by from a wheelchair in a nursing home.

She picked through the mail, knew he was still watching her. Likely knew the silence and the look.

Chuck got up from his chair, left the crossword undone on the table.

"That having been said, what's eating you?"

"The Travelor dredged up shit I hadn't wanted to deal with. At least, not now. Not before the start of mission training."

Mali felt his arms about her. Felt the impulse to tears but locked the lid down tight on that.

"Then let's go to dinner. Before the place gets invaded. You and me."

He breathed into her hair. Sex would have been nice but, with Jen around, not really practical to indulge in at the moment.

Mali looked at Chuck and smiled. The feeling to tears evaporated just looking at him.

"Calm before the storm?"

"Even I know it is."

He said, his eyebrows raised. They kissed a minute.

"Go on, get changed. I'll make the call."

* * *

Neil finally was able to pack up his books and papers.

He was getting extra training in Advanced Calculus and couldn't really believe that it was already after 5 by the time it was done. He estimated that he had about four hours of homework ahead of him before he could even have time to himself.

He had seen Holly with Nicholas Peyerson.

The guy had come into school the same time as he had in the old timeline. It seemed that Holly and he hit it off very well. Not that Neil gave a shit anymore. He kept busy, kept off from Kelsey and Bodanis, kept away from most of the old crowd. Getting the initial dump from NASA ripped his view from High School and into the future. He would be on STS-118, hell or high water. Nothing would keep him off that flight.

Neil felt his cell buzz and he drew it out.

_Dad._

"Yeah, dad?"

"Kid, Mali and I are going out to dinner. Just so you know. By the way- Aunt Jenny will be coming in Monday. Seems she wants to see you."

Neil's face brightened.

"She is? Cool!"

"Well, its for your 18th, so that's good to hear. Talk with you later."

"Sure thing. Enjoy dinner."

Neil clicked the cell off. Happy that Jenny would be in-town. It was the first time since Christmas that she'd come back to Houston.

"Taggart."

Neil stiffened. He knew the voice. Also knew what had happened in the old timeline.

Nicholas Peyerson had tried to pick a fight with him. Neil had gotten a hell of a pounding. He fought, but it had been a gang-up and he lost. What the fuck was Peyerson still doing here?

Why hadn't he left with Holly and left Neil to live his own life?

Neil turned to see the half-Swedish, blonde teen from Indiana. The kid was a self-assured and cocky as always. Thing was, Neil had been trained in some moves by Sgt. Hutchins up in Montana. There would not be a repeat of **that** fight. Not this time around. Whatever Peyerson might try, he would regret it. Even if the cops got called and Peyerson wound up going to the hospital.

"Yeah?"

"Just wanted to meet Holly's **ex**-boyfriend."

"That's nice. I was just packing to get home, Peyerson. I'm not up to talking smack about her. She's **your** woman now."

Neil hoped that deflected him enough. Never instigate. Always avoid confrontation, unless necessary. He'd stopped short of calling Holly an 'issue'. Which she was, now. Then thought about how different even the conversation was with the kid now.

Peyerson walked up to him. He might have been three inches taller than Neil. It didn't cut down the cocky factor one bit.

"Stay away from Holly."

"I don't even go near her."

Yes, it was a pissing contest. Thing was, Neil was beyond it. Even old vestiges of teen pride didn't get through his inner wall now.

"Let's hope so."

Peyerson gave a menacing grin. Obviously was gunning for something more than verbal.

"How could she ever get into a pussy like you?"

Nicholas Peyerson then made the bad mistake of touching Neil. A shove on Neil's chest with his hand. He found his hand in a pincer and twisted away. The kid reacted by dropping to his knees as his hand was cast away from Neil's body. For all the height and bluster, Nick Peyerson could be dropped like a rag doll. He was in some pain with Neil's simple move.

"Don't ever touch me again, Peyerson. Not now, not ever. I'll keep clear of Holly, but you keep fucking clear of me! _Comprende_?"

Neil saw a nod and let loose the grip.

Peyerson got back to his feet. The pain dissuaded him from further fight. He simply turned and left the room. Not that Neil wouldn't have eyes all over his head watching for Peyerson trying to jump him at the first opportunity, once the pain wore off. The 'gang' might still try to jump him. Neil would not back away from completing his High School years and getting on with his life.

He **would** be on STS-118 in four years' time.

Neil watched him go and it was the first time he thanked John Hutchins- in his thoughts- for what had been given him in training up in Montana.

* * *

Mali took a sip of her gin and tonic. Had to admire Chuck's sense of what a decent restaurant was. Guessed that Paige might have liked this place at one time as well. He might seem an old-fashioned, rough-and-tumble flyboy- but he did have a good sense about what would woo a woman.

The Canary could never be called a 'restaurant' so much as a diner- and a not very great one at that.. The food had declined since the main grill cook left. Also, working at NASA was something that kept them rather insulated from the rest of the world. Being in 'Star City' was even more insular. While she had a fair command of Russian, she was not inclined to spend much time outside of the compound. Really, there was little time to even try to do that. The training was relentless. The memories she had of the place were very, very clear to her.

She watched Chuck attack his steak with gusto. A huge, trout fillet was in front of her and she really was enjoying it, for a change. Her eyes scoped the room from their corner table. It certainly wasn't the table by the kitchen door and the waiter wasn't an annoying ass.

"You know, I kept having visions that the only damn food you get there is cabbage."

Chuck said, after a few, concentrated moments of eating.

"Funny that you mention cabbage; the cafeteria served cabbage rolls that actually were not too bad. After a while, they get addictive. Commissary has had to adjust over the years. Especially with the EU and other countries sending their astronauts to train there. Its way better than it used to be."

"Yeah, its one venue Ed never sent me to. Then again, the Shuttle is not the animal the ISS is."

Chuck's blue eyes seemed to glow in the low light.

"Angela never seemed to mind it. Did say it was too 'tight' for her."

"She needs to take a Japanese view of things and keep privacy solely in her mind."

Mali smiled. Liked how he looked in a sport coat and good shirt. Not that any of his clothes were shit, or that he didn't know how to dress himself.

"It's a lot like the old days that T.K. used to tell me about. Some of his Apollo tales are something. I never really understood, until I went to 'Star City' the first time."

"When was that?"

" '95. In the old timeline. After the U.S.S.R. Fell. You want to know paranoid? I think we all were. It was like setting foot in enemy territory. I knew damn well that the old KGB had a dossier on me. Especially with my Army work."

Mali speared another chunk of trout and ate it. The flesh spoke of the clear river it had swam in.

"Let me try some of that. You're enjoying it too much."

Taggart said, reaching his fork over. They had grown used to the little, unconscious gestures that spoke of a committed couple.

"I get paid in an onion ring."

She said, reciprocating his move by plucking one from his plate. Was about to eat it when she spied a person sitting at the bar. Her face drained out.

Taggart stopped in mid-chew. Had never seen her go white like this.

"What is it?"

Mali put the ring down on her plate, looked down and shut her eyes. Looked up again and still saw the person seated at the bar. Had not changed from the last time she had seen him alive. Still the same, short man with a hard face and curly, brown hair. He had more the air of a thug than of a person to be regarded. At least, to her.

"Take a look at the man at the bar who is second from the end and in the leather jacket with the embroidered gold dolphins on the back. Its my father."

Taggart looked over to the bar. Sure enough, the person seated there wore such a jacket. It was the same one Mali had worn up in Washington State- save that the dolphins were gone off of it. Whether from wear- or being deliberately removed- he didn't know. The man was taking in a mixed drink. Wasn't the sort of person really suited to be in this restaurant. Seemed more appropriate for a true bar. Chuck's eyes turned back to Mali.

"You want to leave?"

"He looking over this way?"

"If he is, he's not very obvious about it."

Taggart muttered. His protectiveness of her coming out. He never expected to actually see the person who had caused Mali so much misery. Seeing the man now put him on edge.

"He gets ugly when he drinks. Damn ugly."

She looked at Chuck. Felt bad that their meal was ruined. There was no way she could stand to be near her father, much less in the same room as he. To run was cowardly. She knew that. She also knew that she never liked making a scene. She had NASA's expectation of proper, astronaut conduct to uphold. Brawling in a restaurant wasn't something they liked a lot. Nor would they take well to a police report about one of their own getting into a public scuffle.

"I was hoping it wouldn't have been here. Not tonight."

Taggart caught the eye of the waiter and gestured for the check. They were both under the NASA _Astronaut Code of Professional Conduct_. While he didn't want to cut the dinner short, there were better places to confront this person than in the crowded dining room of a fine restaurant. Any one of the diners could pop out a camera on a cell phone and begin clicking pictures to the JSC or the media. Or even the Police. In which case, both of their careers would be seriously jeopardized.. They both knew that situations like this required them to leave as soon as they could and avoid confrontation.

The man nodded and disappeared to the waiter station to ring up the bill.

Chuck looked back at Mali and damned the Travelor for doing this. There were better ways to do the psych confrontation than this. None of them had to deal with facing demons in front of a crowd in a venue like this. Nobody, except Mali.

The waiter came to their table and presented the bill. Taggart drew out enough cash to cover and tip. The waiter thanked them. Chuck then looked at her. Then noted that George Flynn had stood up to face them.

"Time to go."

Mali nodded and they both got up to leave.

"Run away! That's all you can do!"

George Flynn bellowed.

"To think you are **my** daughter! Ungrateful wench!"

Mali gritted her teeth. The voice, after so many years, grated on her like the coarse side of a box grater. It drew blood. She felt Taggart's hand protectively on her back. It didn't matter that the whole dining room hushed to look at them, then at Flynn for shouting at them. They never saw the concerned look of the bartender who was seconds away from pressing a _bouncer_ _button_. All things considered, George Flynn was making an ass of himself and had made two customers leave. Something not lost on management.

The button got pressed.

"Keep moving."

Taggart growled.

George Flynn shouted more, but Mali blocked out his voice. What he had left to say was lost on her. They made it outside and tried hard to not run to the car. Kept their pace fast, but measured.

Mali took a few, deep breaths. Sucked back what she was feeling. As soon as both car doors shut, she reached underneath the seat and drew her Glock out to stow it between their seats.

By the time they left the parking lot, the Police cars showed up and the officers went inside.

She was grateful for not having needed to use it.

* * *

**Next Day- Kurt's Loft**

The three sat in Kurt's place the next day. Chuck had gone to the JSC to babysit his newbienauts. It left Mali with time to talk over the previous nights' trashed dinner and what the Travelor was all about. At present, it was George Flynn's conduct being commented on.

"What a fucking freak!"

Angela's voice registered the disbelief she had at what she heard.

"Was that a normal way for him to operate?"

"More importantly,"

Kurt began.

"How can you be sure the Travelor hasn't embellished some things about your father?"

Mali nodded. Did her father need embellishment when he was already a flaming asshole without it?

"My father **was** the type to make such a scene. Usually with the goal of making the other party look foolish. Generally, he succeeded. Chuck said as much too. He thought the Travelor might have orchestrated that one. Thing was, it was like my father was. Even to the last time I saw him on St. Mark's."

"Seems he failed this time. Especially if the police showed up to the restaurant."

Kurt said, almost with a hint of glee in his voice.

"At first, I thought he was a manifestation that only Chuck and I could see. Turned out that was wrong. Its probably the first time I've ever seen him fail at making somebody else look like an ass. I have to wonder what happened when they ran his info through the data banks. Especially as he died years ago."

Mali looked at Angela a moment. She wasn't liking what she would have to do in a few days.

The woman's own father would be taken from her, forever. Mali wasn't one to say she had second thoughts on a mission. Killing Brian Perry would be a service. The fact remained- Mali would be killing a parent of one of her team-members.

"Oh, hell no. Its always full-blown technicolor with Mr. Travelor. At least, your dad seems to have gotten a taste of his own medicine."

Angela said, giving a smile and handing Mali a glass of wine.

"And the fake Jamaican accent. That alone will give you nightmares."

Kurt chimed in.

"If you're like Kurt and listen to Bob Marley while drinking bad wine."

Angela quipped.

"Alright, when did this conversation switch from Mali's psycho dad to my taste in music and, might I say, my drinking of far better vintages than the Schlitz you like?"

Kurt said. His tone not so much perturbed as poking fun back at Angela.

Mali watched the interaction between the two. Began to wonder what Angela might have seen in Enrique Pena in the first place. Kurt and her certainly could have been good parents to a son like Anthony. The obvious problem was in Angela having to torch her entire NASA career to be a mother to a very young child.

She took a sip of wine. Would it be fair to mention that she liked Miller on occasion?

The interplay between the two was still good to see. Angela would need the comfort if the death of her father impacted her too strongly.

* * *

Sarah brushed the hairs away from Corey's sweaty forehead and looked at her pale, sick boy. She'd done a full shift at KNBS and tried, as hard as she damn well could, to keep it together.

The course of chemo being given to Corey was brutal. There was definite talk of removing Corey's stomach altogether and bringing in a part of his intestine to act as one for the rest of his life. Thing was, Sarah wasn't even sure if her little boy would even make it to Summer now.

She listened to the machines hum and click. Watched the IV drips into her son's thin arm. Wondered, yet again, why in hell she had to be forced through this whole ordeal again.

Sarah had heard of Mali's 'encounter' at the restaurant the other night.

The Travelor had appeared, again. Making promises and granting things that never should have been. Offered a seeming way for Corey's cancer to be dealt with, only to pull the carpet out at the last minute. He...IT never seemed to tire of the mindgames.

Smoke and mirrors when a little boy's life was in the balance.

Corey stirred under her touch.

Sarah didn't relish the thought of having to go home to a man she hated and pretend to even like him. Paul Forbes could never again be what he once had been. The dislike was mutual, along with Paul's one-sided clinginess.

"Hey, how's he doing?"

Sarah looked back to see Troy step into the room and got to her feet. After a moment, she went into his arms. Something very seldom done these days. In the old timeline, they were supposed to have been planning their wedding. Not being in a freakish limbo like this.

Began to cry.

"My little boy. He's so sick, Troy."

Troy held her as she sobbed. He knew that caretaking somebody so sick took its toll eventually. There was no way to get around it. Sarah tried to not show the strain at KNBS and Troy tried to lighten her workload as much as he could. He would always be there for her. No matter what happened.

"I know, baby, I know."

"Oh God, it wasn't supposed to be like this."

Sarah moaned.

It wasn't the first time Troy heard that statement. He wondered about how Sarah seemed to know things before they even happened. Had even playfully referred to her as his 'psychic'.

Would have liked to have asked her how it was supposed to happen, but refrained.

Sarah was under enough stress right now.

* * *

Mali sat down in the basement and deep-cleaned her Glock.

Working with weapons was therapeutic for her. It was something she would not be able to indulge in Russia. There you had to find other avenues of escape. Mali knew many Russians found solace in bottles of vodka. It was a taste- and habit- she could never acquire.

The distant sound of the doorbell came to her. Per her custom, she refused to even think of answering it. She was not one to ever be at the beck and call of others, save the military and NASA. It was because of this that she didn't move from her chair.

The doorbell rang three more times. Then was followed by knocking- not timid, but demanding.

Mali picked up a dentist pick and set to working out the crud in a groove. She saw a shadow pass one of the basement windows.

Whoever was outside was now in the backyard. It was obvious that they were looking for a way in.

She set the pick down and did a rapid reassemble of the Glock. Shoved a magazine in and chambered a round. Set it down and wondered if the fucker would be brazen enough to enter the house without her having let them in.

The hairs on the back of her neck went up when she heard the patio door slide open.

Mali rose from her chair silently and backed into a corner of the basement where she could not be seen, except by somebody who knew the layout very well. Her ears could hear where the footsteps were moving upstairs. Only one set of feet by the sound of it. She moved back to the worktable once more.

Her hand picked up the gun.

There were things in the house that could not be afforded to be stolen. Mali's combat instinct clicked on and she stalked cautiously towards the stairs.

* * *

Jennifer Taggart-Powell looked at the house.

Little had changed, save that some of Paige's decorating was gone. The place certainly was clean and airy. Chuck had said that Mali would be home. Had to wonder if she was.

Was she asleep? She called up the stairs.

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

Jenny heard nothing but silence, until she turned around and saw Mali standing behind her.

It scared the shit out of her. She hadn't seen that Mali had tucked the Glock in the small of her back and used her overshirt to cover it.

"I was downstairs. I didn't hear you."

Mali said, evenly. Then chose to bring up that the woman hadn't even bothered to inform them of her very-early arrival.

"We didn't know you'd be getting in so early."

"God, Mali, I'm sorry."

Jenny had the distinct feeling that she had just avoided something. With the doorbells and knocking, she still hadn't _heard anything_?

"Is my brother still at work?"

"He'll be home in two hours. The cadets have a major test today."

Mali saw that Jenny hadn't brought her bags in. The reference of 'my brother' was obviously used to indicate a form of relationship that Mali would never be privy to. It was something noted, then dismissed.

"Your stuff on the front porch?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise all of you. Especially Neil."

"He'll be happy to see you."

Mali agreed, walking to the front door.

"He's taken on extra courses to prep him for college. He'll be in late too."

The tension between them was palpable. Especially when Jenny saw the outline of the Glock sticking out from Mali's back under the oversize shirt she wore. When the woman had turned to open the front door, then bent to pick up one of her suitcases. It was then that Jenny knew how close she'd come to getting shot.

* * *

Chuck Taggart and his sister tried to talk quietly in the backyard. As the house overlooked a wooded area, it was well that nobody else was in earshot. He'd come home to his sister being there and practically bitching from the moment he set foot in the door. The Blackbird was gone and he'd found out that Mali had stepped out to find some things for dinner.

As it was now, he was listening to how Jenny had been received when she got in this afternoon. Little of it- or Mali's reaction to it- came as unusual to him. What he didn't appreciate was the automatic labeling and insinuations coming out of his sister.

"Jesus Christ, sis! She's a soldier! You went waltzing in without immediately announcing yourself?!"

"I rang and I knocked, Chuck! I sure as hell didn't expect she'd be wearing a fucking gun!"

Taggart looked at Jenny a long moment. It wasn't that he didn't want Jen here. Lord knew, Neil loved having her here. It was more to the fact that no mention had even been made of her even having come into town. Yet, she expected that folks would automatically know. Would behave exactly as how SHE would want them to.

"She's had a few attempts on her life, sis. If she wears a gun in this house and hears somebody upstairs- who might be considered an intruder who hasn't openly announced themselves- what would you expect her to do?"

"Have you seen the set-up she has downstairs? Do you even know the woman you are in-love with?"

Jenny pleaded. Then saw that she had definitely walked off the edge of the pier. Yes, she'd snooped. What was down in the basement frightened her. Enough to make her consider calling in the Police.

"If you knew half the truth about her, you wouldn't be saying this shit to my face. Because you are my sister I've opted to try and cut you some slack. Problem is, if you want somebody kicked out- it isn't going to happen. It will **NEVER** happen."

Taggart fought to get a hold on his temper before continuing.

"You are welcome to stay here. However, if **YOU** cannot get over your prejudice, you might consider getting a hotel room."

"So you're blowing off what is in the basement?"

"Major Malinda Flynn is a U.S. Army **RANGER**! Deal with it!!"

Taggart found himself barking the words at his sister. He honestly didn't know what the hell else would suffice.

"Women can't be....."

Jenny persisted.

Taggart's eyes went as cold as January.

"Your _friends _don't know shit. As result, **you **don't know shit. With all due respect, you might care to keep your mouth shut, Jen. Keep it shut until you are damn sure about the facts."

"Aunt Jenny!"

Neil said, coming out the patio door and into the back yard.

Taggart watching his son hug her. Left them to chat and went back in the house.

"What's up with dad?"

"Oh, he and I were having a talk about things. You know how he can get."

Jenny looked at Neil with a smile, then hugged him again. Even if Chuck would cling to Malinda Flynn, there was no way in hell she'd give up on somebody like Neil.

* * *

Mali set the grocery bag on the counter and looked out the window.

It was hell of a way to spend the last, couple days before she went overseas. Her green eyes regarded the aunt and nephew talking. Watched them with some dispassion in her gaze. Knew she'd just come in on the tail-end of something.

"She feels you were ready to blow her brains out."

Taggart said, coming up behind her. His eyes were also looking out the window.

"I could have. Thing is, I'm not that undisciplined."

Mali turned to give Chuck a quick peck on the lips.

"I gather she told her side in great detail?"

"Yeah, and then some."

Taggart said, holding her close. It was true that she had a gun stowed where Jen said it was. He could feel it under his hands. It was little different from other times she went out. The conceal/carry permit was a military one that any Law Enforcement agency in the country was bound to respect. He knew Mali now packed whenever she- or they- went out. It was this way thanks to the Synths and repeated stays in the hospital due to them..

"I **thought** we might have a quiet weekend. Before she got into town."

Mali said nothing as they kept their hug. In two days she'd leave for Russia. After Neil's birthday. Jenny would still be here for who knew how long.

"Its alright. I promise I won't try to sneak out from behind a corner and try to aerate her again. I'll also lock up the 'terrorist gun shop' set-up in the basement before I book out of town. I'm sure she already knows I'm going to an Al Qaeda training camp in Siberia."

Chuck took the mild sarcasm with the humor he always did.

"I thought it was the Communist party trying to resurrect itself running that camp?"

"They combined then. The economy over there, and all that. Two for the price of one."

Mali gave a shrug and got a chuckle out of him. They shared a smile, before Neil and Jenny came back towards the house.

* * *

**Seoul, South Korea**

Senator Brian Perry stepped off the private jet to the flickers of hundreds of camera flashes and gave his trademark Texas grin for all to see. His fellow legislators came behind him.

He found himself having to consult the old, organic memories to recall how to appear to be an organic human, not Synth. The Network fed him constant streams of information.

The 'Pilot' was pleased.

It had plans for its noted minion

* * *

Angela clicked a button on the remote and the nightly news got turned off. The images of her grandstanding father faded to space. His trip to South Korea and Asia seemed to be going swimmingly. Not that he really talked to her since his last 'lecture'. It seemed that he had too much of his political life to attend to now. She had heard, through the grapevine, that he'd not seen his mistress in some time. That things might have 'cooled' brought Angela a small bit of mirth to her otherwise glum view of her father.

She gave a yawn and got up to pad to the bathroom. The 'message' button on her phone never stopped its blinking. Knew who it was and really felt like not ever talking to him again.

Enrique Pena would know what the fuck had happened, eventually. Just not now.

In the weeks since the abortion, Angela had gotten her life back to normal. She wasn't up to going out again, but she was able to clear her mind for her NASA duties and get back into the swing of things. She heard the talk at the JSC, but kept free of it. The 'Expedition 9' crew was slated to go to Russia this weekend. Mali would be gone for damn near a year, in Russia, for rocket training. There was no doubt that Chuck would be pissed that security constraints were keeping most friends and family stuck stateside. They weren't able to go to 'Star City' like they used to. Except, maybe, for launches and returns. That would require long trips to Kazakhstan to accomplish

NASA also had the 'post-tragedy' jitters about sending crews up. It was obvious what had happened and why it happened. Getting back to sending Shuttles up would still take time and patience.

As training had it, Angela was due to go to the Cape for required, refresher courses in the training modules. She would also be able to see the **Odyssey** for the first time since she'd come back to this time and place. It would be a reunion, of sorts. One that, despite all that had happened, she would be glad to have.

* * *

Few things cleared her mind more than working with her firearms. As a result, she had made her way back down into the basement while everybody else slept..

Perhaps the only indication that she'd had a nightmare was in her pounding heart. Mali's eyes opened to the dark of the bedroom. She hadn't backed up against the headboard this time. Hadn't made noise before coming awake. Hadn't even disturbed the man who slept next to her. Her eyes looked at all the dark corners of their bedroom before she was certain that no Synths were in the shadows.

Now, as she worked on the trigger of one of her rifles, she could feel the change in air pressure in the basement. Could almost hear another being manifest itself in the space.

She didn't pay it much thought. She already knew who it was.

In her time as a Synth, many strange abilities had become commonplace to her. She knew when others of her kind were around. Knew when 'organics' were around. Could differentiate between the two by the subtle shifts in environment. Certainly didn't need to confirm thermal signatures with her 'other sight'. She could feel the heat coming off of somebody. Even before she became a 'plastic', she was able to hear things not many others could and sense changes. It was part of what made her so sought after in NASA. Had she more of a scientific background she could have easily slid into the JPL and gotten away from the astronaut end of things altogether.

Fate didn't turn out quite as she expected.

Rather than be shocked by the Travelor manifesting out of thin air, Mali simply reached for another tool and continued working. Nearly ignored its presence in the room.

"You are not easy to speak with, Major Flynn."

"I wasn't aware you wished to do so. I don't have ESP on the thoughts of others."

Mali muttered quietly.

The Travelor looked about the basement.

It was warm, secure, perfect to hole up in. It sensed that Malinda Flynn was very comfortable being removed from others and their lives.

"Haven't you ever wanted to know more about the world around you?"

"I've seen too much of it. You forget that. Or does your memory bank not have that information? Then again, if you are a construct off the Seeker's programming, why haven't you combed my thoughts?"

"The team you are now part of knows why they have had to give up certain things. It is being done all with the goal of saving this planet? You, on the other hand, seem content with going against everything to do things your own way."

Mali set down the tool she was working with, and grabbed another.

"Elaborate."

"You refused to become a Synth again."

"Set me down the path to my own destruction, again. Go on."

"You allowed yourself to become a member of the Cadre. You are now accepting assignments that you know could jeopardize this team and its goals."

"My sole interest is to see that organic, human life remains the dominant lifeform of this planet. The Synthetics and Sentients threaten that. You also forget the two species wish to surmount humanity as a whole. I will fight that. To my own death, if need be."

"Are you willing to risk the lives of your team as well? The very existence of this planet? Your home? Whether you accept it or not, you are part of this team now. Are their lives so meaningless to you compared to the interests of the Cadre?"

Mali calmly set down her tool and looked at the Travelor.

"What would you like me to do? Try to reverse staying human? Tell the Cadre 'Thanks, but I don't wish to be part of your group'? Move back to Washington State and tell my friends 'Sorry, your group and the Earth's destruction really isn't something I give two shits about anymore'? Leave the one man who seems to honestly give a shit about me? Would my lying about all of that make you feel better, Travelor?

The being paused.

"The Seeker never told you why you were sent back here. You were told how, but not why."

"I get the 'preservation of the planet' angle. Is there something I'm missing? You seem to feel that I'm not on some mysterious, set course. I don't think that even my friends know the course set out for them. They seem to be muddling through- if I can say- not too badly without your sage pronouncements on what they should or should not be doing."

Mali looked over to the stairs and saw Taggart emerge at the bottom of them. Likely had awoke to find her not there. Now, found the Travelor speaking with her in the basement.

She had heard the soft footsteps above their heads as he walked through the kitchen.

"I was wondering when you would show back up."

Taggart said, looking at the being.

"Hello, Commander Taggart. Nice to see you again."

"I heard snippets of discussion about 'the mission'. Is there something that's an issue?"

Taggart looked at Mali and saw her shrug her shoulders a moment. Then looked at Travelor.

"The Travelor seems to feel that I don't have the proper 'focus' on why I was sent back here. Seems to think that there is something else I should be doing?"

Mali had, while she spoke, reassembled the rifle and pulled the trigger. She brought it up to her ear and listened to the action. Set the weapon back on the bench. It seemed that he hadn't heard of her admitting to being in the Cadre. He would eventually know, but only in the proper time for it. The whole group would know then too. She wouldn't know the reaction of any of them until it actually happened.

"Now that Commander Taggart is here, why don't you cut to the chase and explain where I'm am perceived to be failing in the 'Save the Planet' goal?"

The Travelor sensed the protectiveness and love coming off of Taggart. Since the man had lost his lifemate, he'd adopted Flynn into the role quite naturally. That much was on-course. Flynn helped to balance Commander Taggart. It could see the obvious about the relationship- the pair were as two sides of a single whole.

"Rather than consider things as 'failure', you might wish to look where things are succeeding too well."

Taggart sighed. Tried to keep his voice low. The last thing he needed was to wake up Jenny and the shit would really be in the open. He knew from experience that voices in the basement could carry upstairs.

"So, to avoid a direct answer, you answer with riddles now?"

"Consider that too much action is as dangerous as too little."

The Travelor gave a benevolent smile, before disappearing into thin air. Further explanation of anything evaporated along with the being.

Mali sighed when the being left. As before, she was left to ponder its words.

"Well, I have to wonder when it will manifest my beloved father again."

"You know what I'm wondering- why the Police never contacted you about him after the scene at the restaurant.."

Taggart saw Mali look up at him.

"Hard to arrest an apparition once it decides to go, I'd imagine. I've been wondering if he'll show up in Russia at some point. It's the only place he could meet up with me. Unless, the Travelor has another person in mind."

Chuck came up to her and put his arms about her.

"I'd love to be that person."

Mali smiled and nodded. Rested her head against his chest. Could hear the steady beat of his heart.

"It would know that would be too easy. I wouldn't mind having you over there. Problem is, it'd be damn hard to get any serious training in. I'm also sure **it** wouldn't like being ignored."

* * *

**Three Days Later-**

The itinerary for Senator Perry's 'visit' landed on General Pierce's desk shortly after he got back from Afghanistan. The piece of paper then went straight to an anonymous post office box in Seoul. It was picked up the same day by secure courier and delivered to a private address in one of the cities that surrounded the huge, national capital.

Now it was in Mali's hand as she sat in the barber chair in the closed room.

Her eyes sported different-colored contacts. Her eyes transformed into a dark brown. A make-up artist finished the work of nearly five hours to transform her face into somebody not with looks like hers. A wig of straight, dark hair blended with eyebrows dyed to match. She had a literal crew of Cadre about her. They had smoothed and planned every bit of the mission she was to carry out. Had been that way ever since she'd stepped into the airport bathroom in Houston and had been whisked away, far from the planned route back to Russia. Few would have guessed that the door in the back of the restroom was anything other than one to a maintenance closet.

9/11, for all its drawbacks, enabled her to slip out of the country without Chuck Taggart knowing a bit about it. Even if he called the airlines and queried her flight- or if she was on it- he would get information no different than if she'd actually been on the plane. She was officially listed on the manifest of the flight. Lies were not lies when done in the name of 'National Security'.

The suit was Armani, the blouse was silk, the lingerie and silk pantyhose spoke of a type of woman Mali wasn't. Down to the heels of the Christian La Croix shoes she wore, Mali was a seeming, high-paid, American businesswoman in Seoul. She would be little noticed from among the other foreigners who would be seen in the area where Senator Perry would be addressing business leaders. White women from America were as capable as any American man when it came to doing business in Korea. Asians didn't mind men in business- so long as it wasn't their women doing it. As such, she would be little noted, or would stand out.

Mali watched her transformation in the mirror.

In two days, she would be in Russia once more and free of this latest mission. As she stood and donned the light raincoat to protect her expensive suit against the drizzle, she steeled herself. Brian Perry's brains would be splattered before the sun came down. His term as a Synth would be ended. His ability to funnel money into the Synth Network would be forever cutoff. She had no second thoughts about who she was killing. For him to be allowed to live was not an option anymore. He was a national- and planetary- threat.

"The Korea National Bank overlooks the Sheraton Grand Hotel, where the Senator is giving his speech. The Bank also hosts several high-end shops. Also a brokerage firm. You will have a clearance card for the elevator. It will allow you rooftop access. Your weapon is in the service box just after you exit, on the roof. It will be on your right. The rifle is a ceramic make. We cannot chance a metal detector finding it. There are some surveillance units around the hotel. You will be going in during a gap between the primary security team and the back-up one. We have followed their habits and they are getting sloppy as this event has gone on. Even if they weren't, you will still have a ten-minute window to accomplish your shot. Your spotter will have the bullet to be used. We trust you will have no problems working with him."

Mali's eyes looked up at the 'coach'. His tight grey hair and startling blue eyes had always been looking at her in the mirror. Her glance at him was momentary. There was no time to develop any sort of close rapport. Not that she wanted to; he had his job, she had hers. He was a Cadre operative and likely bedded many women more suitable for his likes than she.

"Where is my spotter, in that case? I'd like to ascertain his fitness before I commit to having him with me."

The man smiled. Not a welcome smile. It merely was a response to her request.

"We chose to employ somebody you might know- from your past."

Mali watched the door open. Kept her face neutral.

The Cadre certainly had its connections. There were any number of people from her past that she would never want around her again. There was also the unresolved, 'Travelor' issue. If it came up with somebody, or if this 'coach' was another guise of the being, Mali knew that literally anybody she hated could be teamed with her.

As it was, she needn't have worried. John Hutchins stepped through the door. True to the mission and the need to not be recognized, his appearance changed as well. What hadn't changed were his eyes.

She knew better than to be anything but professional. The thought did cross her mind of the Travelor using this as another trick to poke at her. Mali nodded her head. Time later to confirm that this wasn't another 'Travelor' round of shit.

"Sgt. Hutchins."

"Good morning, Major."

John said stiffly. He knew very well how to act in front of others they both did not know very well.

"Is there any problem with our choice?"

The man asked.

"None at all. Familiar faces are always welcome in this profession."

* * *

**Hurry up and wait.**

The one, constant in the military world that every member could completely count on happening. It was also a part of the Cadre's world. Even the rainy, grey world of Seoul seemed to say that things were moving very, very slowly now. Minutes might tick by, but what else was moving on?

John and Mali hadn't spoken much since the initial meeting. They didn't need to, nor did they want to talk in front of the two Koreans who were with them. They had been vetted by the Cadre, but what else could they be into?

They both knew Seoul well enough to not need the natives. In fact, it likely would have been better. As it was, though, they were on the Cadre payroll, not the Army's.

Mali sat in the car, eyes shut and listened to the patter of raindrops on the roof. It was a hard rain- a _male_ rain. Rain with a mission and enough noise to drown out things. Her eyes didn't open when she felt John move, heard the car door open, the brief noise of the pounding rain, and the door shut once more. John would have a little bit of a walk before reaching the Bank building.

* * *

........They sat around the kitchen table as Neil opened his gifts. The three eyeballing the 17-going-on-23 year-old. It was like a repeat of Christmas. Not that Jenny Taggart's mood had changed a bit where Mali was concerned.

Jenny's present had been a computer-mounted camera. Of course, she hadn't realized that Neil already had one- courtesy of 'Kitten'. A device he didn't much use, given the type of snooping he was into. The last thing he needed was somebody getting a face to go with the name.

Chuck had gotten him a Breitling watch that Paige had talked him out of, even when Neil made it into NASA. He'd always felt that the kid should have a good timepiece that could be passed down one day. Especially as time was ever more important. Moreso now than ever before.

When Neil opened Mali's present, it almost seemed anti-climatic, given the other stuff.

The smile on his face when he pulled out the Bluetooth said that he hadn't gotten one until he'd been an astronaut a few years. He looked at Mali with a huge smile.

"It was that, or a Blackberry. The I-Pods are crap. You can always upgrade this later."

Mali watched Neil take it out of its packaging. Lord knows, The Sharper Image had charged the premium price she knew all first-run gadgets got when they came into the market. At least, the scramble had been beaten.

"What the hell is that anyway?"

Jenny asked, completely baffled that such a small thing made Neil flip with joy. A prickle of anger went through her as she realized that she had been one-upped again by Flynn.

"Wireless, ear-mounted, cell phone."

Chuck commented, watching Neil already beginning to program the thing. Conscious of the kid shouldn't really know a hell of a lot before faking looking through the instruction manual.

As it was, Neil was treating the thing like he knew it inside and out- which he did, but....

"Don't you think you need to read the manual first, whiz-kid?"

Neil caught the inference. Faked a goof. One easily fixed, but appeared major.

Mali and Chuck's eyes met. Her eyebrows raised and she shook her head. Her voice came out with a heavy, Slavic accent.

"Instructions? He no need no stinking instructions, Vladimir."

"Da. And I don't need no brains either to go in space."

Chuck retorted, in his own pseudo-Russian tone.

"Depends what manner of 'go' you mean."

Mali said, with a glint in her eye. Her equally-fake voice a playful counterpoint to his. The sort of thing one might have seen up in space, out of NASA's view and earshot.

Taggart looked at her a moment. The banter was common. Normally it would have preceded things done behind closed doors. With Jenny around, it wasn't able to be indulged with any quickness. There was so little time before Mali had to be at the airport. Perhaps a few hours, then just enough sack time for a decent sleep before the sixteen hours to get to Russia.

Unlike the old days o private jets, NASA astronauts had to take commercial airliners now with the budget cuts.

* * *

It had been a couple hours later when Jen took her brother aside. When Mali had to get to bed early and Neil opted to go out to a movie with Kelsey and Bodanis. Asked the question that had been on her mind since last Christmas, after Mark's death. Certainly still in the wake of Paige's untimely demise. A time when a husband should have held off forming new attachments with anybody. Even that Penny chick should have had the class to hold off her attentions for a bit. Not that Jenny could control any of it. Hell, she had damn little of her own life solidly in her control. A point she didn't touch on, at present.

Mali had heard the conversation through the air ducts in the house. Something she knew, only after hearing Neil's chats with his friends late at night. Those calls seemed to have tapered off sharply since he got back from Montana. It taught her to shut off the vents unless they were going to be actually used.

"One thing I've been meaning to ask: when are you going to pop the ring on her?"

"What the hell do you mean?"

"Chuck, you know what I mean. You're sure as hell banging her. Why not make it legitimate?"

"You have a problem because Neil liked her present better than yours? Is that it?"

Mali thought she almost heard a laugh in Chuck's voice. She heard the sound of movement. Jenny was setting up to go ballistic. No doubt he had hit it on the head......

Her eyes opened.

They had just come to a stop in front of the bank building. Chuck and Jenny's conversation retreated into the back of Mali's mind as she grabbed the paper beside her and waited as the driver's assistant got out, popped open an umbrella, and held it for her to step under and take.

The click of the high heels was lost in the noise of the rain. Much like the gunshot from a high-powered rifle would be from forty stories up. She went into the bank building and the timer started.

* * *

Chuck Taggart got home early.

Had raced upstairs to get in a shower before meeting the crew at the Canary. Couldn't help but notice 'Herbert' as he entered the bedroom. The stuffed toy had its place on Mali's dresser. He always could see it from the bed. Had lately taken to going back through his bookshelf and rereading books he liked. He couldn't say that Mali had brought many books with her. A worn copy of 'Warday' by Whitley Strieber and Carl Sagan's 'Contact', a few books by Frank Herbert and Anne McCaffrey were all that he'd seen her reading thus far. There was little that could pry her from her CDs though. She could listen to music for hours. He'd been pleasantly surprised to hear her playing some old Johnny Cash and Hank Williams one day that he got in.

Chuck's blue eyes looked at the teddy bear; it was something that always brought memories of her to him. Problem was, when he thought of her just now he also knew there was somebody else in the room.

"Am I so quickly forgotten, Chuck?"

He knew the accusatory voice. Only one woman had it that he'd ever known of. A voice that distantly echoed her mother's: Paige.

She sat in the corner, on a chair Mali used as something of a clothes horse for her outfits. A chair empty now- or should have been, given that the woman he saw was dead since last year. He felt a rush of emotion that was tempered by the knowing that this was a fabrication. He didn't know if it was his own mind or something the Travelor whipped up.

Paige Taggart sat in the chair; not relaxed, but in a stiff sort of way. Her long, curly black hair and familiar face seemed to be the very essence of the wife he once had. Wore one of the cashmere sweaters that had been donated to Goodwill, along with much of her clothing. Not that this apparition cared about things like that. It could have been residue from the mental 'reconditioning' he'd undergone many months ago. The exact origin of this 'Paige' was not immediately known to him.

"Why are you here?"

Taggart's voice came out in a tone he would have never used with a wife who was alive. THAT voice was warmer, kinder than the one used now.

"Isn't it obvious? You're going to marry her, aren't you?"

"You presume a relationship to me that isn't yours, madam. My wife, the REAL Paige Taggart, doesn't exist in this side of being anymore."

"I'm your wife!"

The being attempted to sidle up to his recollections.

"Like hell if you are! Get the fuck out of my house!"

Taggart shouted, annoyed with the being even being present in front of him. The very fact of Paige's face looking at him in the guise of accusing ghost enraged him. She , of all people, would never wish him to live a life of loneliness until he died. She would have wished another to love and care for him, as he would have for her.

"Go back to the mindfuck hell you got belched out of!"

He watched the form blink out of his sight. Felt his chest loosen up. Felt like he'd just run ten miles in two minutes. Looked back at the bear on Mali's dresser. Went over and, despite a need to fling the thing out of his house, stuck it into the closet up upon a shelf where it couldn't be seen.

* * *

She saw Perry's face through the plate glass windows.

It was true that they were tempered to withstand typhoons. However, nothing could stand up to a military-grade, high-velocity, 'smart bullet' that had all the markings of the Plastics all over it.

She willed her body into complete stillness and focus. The dripping rain didn't come between the scope's eyepiece and her eye socket. She was getting soaked to the bone, but it didn't phase her. John's voice was in the earpiece she wore. The binoculars were glued to his face. They both watched the happy, affable Senator as he stood and addressed the delegation.

Mali's finger squeezed the trigger, took up the slack in the barest motion. She had killed other people for doing far less than anything Perry was guilty of. Even when his profile morphed into that of her father, she didn't flinch and release the slack. She stayed on, stayed true, and waited for John's voice to say one word.

"Clear."

The silencer muzzled the bark of the rifle. The padded butt lightly bumped her shoulder.

Mali saw the hole get punched in the window. Watched her father's temple get a black hole drilled into it. Then saw Brian Perry come back into view as the far side of his head exploded bits of skull, brain, and white gore onto the Korean business leader that sat next to the podium. The Senator went down as so many others had when viewed through a rifle scope: like a rag doll no longer being played with.

No Synth could withstand the loss of so much brain matter, no matter how much the Network wanted it to live. Even Synth bodies died. They hadn't perfected the ability to resurrect. Even the download of consciousness was next to impossible for the Network to achieve. Even artificial constructs faced the same limitations as organic life. The fact that it had also been a 'smart bullet' made Perry's death inevitable.

Mali felt an almost sexual rush go through her.

Never again would Brian Perry hound her life, or her dreams. Never would he be a threat to the group, or to Chuck and Neil. She felt a momentary giddiness before she raised off the wet surface and calmly backed away from the building's roof edge. The rain thickly pooled the roof making her almost feel like she was swimming.

They slinked towards the elevator and took it down to a vacant floor that housed the clothes they could change into before appearing on the street again. The last things they heard were the distant sounds of sirens and alarms going off or coming to the scene.

A U.S. Senator had died on foreign soil and there were those who would be hunting for his killer.

* * *

The group sat in the Canary. The mood was somber.

They hadn't met often now in this small café. The place that had seen so many of their plans get formulated seemed to have lost something. Nobody knew if it was the innocence of the earlier times, or simply that the new memories were starting to weigh in.

What they discussed now was the profound quiet from the 'Synth Sector'. They weren't making much noise since the Silver City Massacre. Even if it had been only a few months ago, it was still a long time and August 7th, 2007 was still coming. Even finding shit to dig up was getting to be a problem. The Synths and Sentients were both quite aware of this group of six now. Aware enough to curtail many of its doings in Houston. The probability loomed that they might have to start going afield. Some of the strange doings up in Dallas was starting to get noticed by them. Lately, news had been of odd injuries showing up in hospital ER wards.

"Look, that's what my contact up there said."

Sarah tried to not inject a sigh into what she'd just said.

"My contact said that the ER personnel were freaked out. Then the Government- or people who seemed that way- came in and shut everybody up."

"So what?"

Kurt, per the norm, was having a hard time seeing what might be the problem with what Sarah was saying.

"It's the SOP of the Government to hush what it doesn't want known."

"The 'so what?', Kurt, is that the more the Synths get seen the more people will see that there's something going on. As it is, there are some up there who aren't phased by any of this at all. Like its becoming commonplace."

Sarah saw Taggart sit back in his booth seat.

"The Travelor warned that too much action is as dangerous as too little."

Chuck said, taking a drink of his tea, which was too sweet for his taste. In the interests of getting down some liquid that had flavor, he still drank it.

"When did you see him?"

Kurt asked, unaware that there might be more to things on that end.

"Paid a visit just before she went to Russia. IT still hasn't finished its _morality tale _with Mali."

"You think **it **will go to Russia?"

Angela asked.

"Hell, **it** visited us no matter where any of us were. I don't see it giving two shits about distance. Fact is, perhaps the Travelor might have a point. We've been on the offensive for a while. I'd like to lay low and see what comes to us. Let 'them' work, for a change."

Nobody was paying much attention to the TV as they talked about moves to make next. Perhaps an occasional glance or two as the evening news played. People about them talked and ate. Life was normal.

At least until the news went to breaking and one of Senator Perry's earlier pictures came up on the screen. Something that Angela Perry couldn't miss, as her seat faced the screen. The group went quiet. Taggart saw her stunned look and turned to look at the TV. Over the mild talking they could hear the reporter talking. Heard the word 'assassination'.

Angela's mouth dropped open. She got up from the booth and walked closer to the TV to hear it better. It caused the whole group to get up and come up behind her. Their move quieted the small diner. Eyes turned to them, then to the TV screen.

"_....Senator Perry was in the middle of addressing the group during the final dinner of the American trade delegation to South Korea when he was shot dead. Police reports indicate that the killer was not in the room and had likely shot from a nearby building. No suspects have been arrested at this time. Police in Seoul are scouring the city for the shooter and whomever might have assisted them in this murder. We will give you more details as they become available."_

Angela Perry stood in stunned silence. Sarah's hand gripped her shoulder. The whole group seemed unsure as to what to do next. Brian Perry wasn't a person loved by any of them, but it didn't help that Angela was still his daughter.

"I need to get home."

It was all Angela could say, before she got up and walked to the door.

* * *

The highly-spiced meat hit the hot grill and began to send up clouds of aromatic smoke. Bulgogi was always best enjoyed with good friends and cold beer. In this case, the two who sat at the table were enjoying a bit of relaxation before going their separate ways again.

Most of the make-up had to stay on, but it was nice that the mission had been a successful one. They'd changed clothes and taken off the facial coverings, but still didn't look like themselves completely. Any video cameras would have a hard time with saying that they were actually where they were at all.

Mali put down her chopsticks and took a long pull from her bottle of beer. The place reminded her of her old, Army days. Times when she was going around the world and had damn little to anchor her in any place where the Army hadn't set her down Also spoke of being thousands of miles away from her overbearing parents and their disdain for her new, military life.

She watched the meat crisp and sizzle before flipping it over for a second. Then lifted it off to her bowl of steamed rice to let it cool a moment.

"I meant to ask, how's Connie?"

"She left. We're divorcing. The incident in Wisconsin was her last straw."

Hutchins said, before munching an incendiary piece of kimchee.

It was news Mali hadn't wanted to hear, but knew it was always possible. Would somebody like Chuck stick with her if he hadn't also seen his share of shit with the Synths and Sentients? She popped the barely-cooked piece of meat into her mouth and chewed it well.

The flux and flow of other diners going unnoticed. The din of talk made their conversation of no consequence.

"I've thought about getting out of Wisconsin anyway."

"Where would you want to go?"

"I've thought about Alaska, or even up to Montana- you'd know where. Any place but the Mid-West. Even Texas. I like the western part better than the eastern, though."

"Houston is a rat-race. Its too big for me to ever like. I know friends up in Washington State. How about Seattle? You could rent my place on St. Mark's, if you want."

Mali saw the man's eyes brighten. Obviously, it would be seriously considered. What she would ask in rent would be a damn sight cheaper than the cost of actually living anywhere near Seattle-Tacoma and renting.

"Learn how to run and sail a boat and you could partner in my Charter business in the Summer."

"You serious?"

"You fished a lot in the woods. Fishing at sea takes time, but you'll never forget what you learn. You know how to run better than a rowboat anyway. Think it over. I'm serious."

Mali put on a few slices of vegetables onto the griddle. Her eyes flicked to him. Saw him hesitate a moment.

"What?"

Hutchins took a drink of his shochu and looked at her. The drink might be from Japan, but the Koreans drank it like water.

"You planning on staying with Taggart?"

"Yes. For the time being. He's a good man."

Mali saw her friend look away.

"John, its better this way. Besides, I'm still an astronaut in NASA. I'm not giving that up anytime soon."

"I recall somebody who, not but a year ago, was none too happy with being a 'space drone' in the 'Houston Hole'."

"I've had a change in perspective since then. Considering what's out there, I'm quite content to keep a job that isn't going to evaporate soon."

"For God's Sake, you know the missions going out of the JPL these days?! What makes you think that manned flight is a guarantee of job security?"

Hutchins said, almost with a trace of venom in his voice.

Mali looked hard at John. For him to be talking like this was not how she recalled him being before. Most any other time, he could care less about the nuances of her job so long as they remained friends elsewhere. Nobody in the group called down the other's post-Army profession. At least, not the group they both used to know.

"You're not sounding like yourself."

"Maybe because I'm seeing things differently."

He looked down and ate more of the food in front of him.

Mali considered that.

In the original timeline, John and Connie never got divorced. Just as their Ranger crew never got massacred. Life was steady and predictable. At least, until August 7th of 2007. The 'Odyssey' group had corrupted a lot of the timestream since they got 'sent back'. Mali knew that it had been corrupted considerably with the untimely demise of Brian Perry today.

She was jolted from her thoughts by the charring of the spring onion on the grill and plucked it off.

* * *

It wasn't easy for Angela to stand on the tarmac with her mother and watch the casket that contained her father descend down the loading ramp to the bearers who would put it into the hearse.

She found it hard to muster tears for the man, even when her mother was stifling sniffles and dabbing at her eyes. Angela knew half of it was fake. Still, like a dutiful- if cuckolded- wife, Mrs. Perry had some emotion at the demise that had met the man she'd spent decades of her life with. Even if the emotion seemed misplaced with the Senator's recent indiscretions.

The wind off the coast made them both shiver in their black, mourning suits. Her mother might have worn the skirt, but it was Angela who felt the chill more in her slacks. Chuck and the rest of them couldn't be with them here. They certainly would be invited to the funeral.

It didn't prevent Angela from catching a glimpse of the slim, tanned woman in black whose long, dark hair, sunglasses, and broad-brimmed hat hid the fact that she had been the woman who- until recently- had shared the late-Senator's bed..and heart. There was no lasting rancor for the woman on Angela's part. She had brought her own form of happiness to Brian Perry. Now she could have her own share of grief- especially at being cut-off from Perry's 'indulgences' and any hope of alimony. The only riches that could be garnered was from what she already had and her memories. Unless, of course, she clicked her heels to D.C. to work on another campaign staff with potential to cozy up to another Senator or Representative.

Angela looked at the coffin. She'd been told that the bullet entered the left temple and blew out the right side of Brian Perry's head. An open-casket funeral would not be the one for her father. After a brief lie-in-state in the Austin capital rotunda, he would be taken home to Edinburg where he could rest in peace amidst the cattle country he'd grown up in.

Not that he cared to visit it once he'd gone into politics.

She would have felt better if the group had been here. Would have liked for Kurt to be present, even if things had greatly cooled. His latest love- Tamera- had been mentioned. It left Angela to devote herself back into her NASA work in another attempt to carry on and forget.

She was having to do a lot of that lately.

* * *

**June 23****rd****, 2003**

The primary crew for the ISS had already been briefed about the mission objectives for their Expedition. What hadn't been discussed in great detail was the payload that the Russian rocket would be carrying, along with the three-man crew.

Mali was not surprised when it was mentioned, nor was she about to cause the sort of waves that would raise the alarm. Some things had to be allowed to run their course. The edition of 'Leviathan' that would be getting installed on the ISS was something that had to be permitted.

She sat in the meeting room at the JSC and listened to the dictates being put forth. One couldn't quite call it a 'discussion'. There was little discussion when it came to what the Agency- or government interests- wanted. You simply heard the orders and would- in due course- carry them out to the letter.

She was happy that Chuck wasn't in the room with her.

He would have not been able to hide his reaction too well. His own clout had been markedly reduced since he sank the first 'Bright Sky' satellite. It might be water under the bridge, but the Agency's memory was quite long. Chuck Taggart was still a liability- whether or not he was around. At least to some things.

Her eyes never truly connected with Hodge's. It would have been a rather obvious give-away that they were both part of the same group. Those who were of the Cadre didn't need to give such signs anyway. They had both been briefed on what was planned, well in advance of today's meeting. That aside from the private delight that Mali had carried out her Korean 'assignment' with perfection. The Cadre paid her handsomely and there would be more in the future. The Network was having a very bad time of recovery. At least, it was what was being reported. Nobody really bought that. Not with the Arizona Hive still intact.

Mali's mind flickered to Taggart a moment.

No doubt he was on the other side of the JSC site, with the newbienauts. He would be going with them to Florida in a week's time. Would be doing things at the Cape while she was back in Russia training. She couldn't claim to being happy to be away from him. Even if their group had been relatively quiet, she still preferred their company to the stiffness of things at 'Star City'. There would be many more months of training before being allowed to return Stateside for the Holidays in December. Time spent here would be all too brief.

She gamely put up with the droning on of the present speaker and tried not to eye her watch too much. Chuck had a free, two-hour block with which they planned to go to lunch before he returned to work and she went for a check-in with Dr. Marks. The prospect of seeing the lovesick man didn't make her enthusiastic. Marks was no less a pain with her in Russia than when she was here. The thought had crossed her mind, more than once, to find out why in hell Marks was still toying with her when other doctors would have cleared her as a patient and gone on to other cases.

Marks could easily be Cadre. He could also be into something else that Mali felt compelled to find out about. Had to know about, lest she be yet another target of her enemies.

* * *

**Arizona**

The Mongolian girl known as 'Bayermaa' looked up at the vast space above her head.

She'd seen the huge, dark hole in the ground that appeared as if from nowhere. She hadn't felt scared, but she didn't feel comfortable. Not like she did in her Uncle's ger after her parents and her brother were killed by the strange men. It had taken many, many months. She'd never felt akin to her Uncle's family. She'd heard the fights he had with his aunt, late at night when she was supposed to sleep. Her aunt was an 'organic'; she would likely never understand

She heard many voices in her head and saw images from time to time.

Others of her kind were not warm or personable in the way she was used to. Still, they cared for her and treated her- all things considered- as best as they could. Even went so far as to find others of her age. She had a basic affinity for those 'others', but nothing like the friends she made at school in Mongolia.

Bayermaa was led by the hand to a hallway with rooms that radiated from a central, circular area. Stood silently and watched as her guide opened the unlocked door and turned to her.

_You are home now._

The girl blinked at the thought. A square room was not a ger by any stretch. Still, being here was far safer than the nightmare of how she had to leave her homeland, then China, to just get to this country. Bayermaa looked at the woman and nodded.

_There will be things for you to do. You will be called for them. Now rest_.

The woman stepped aside to let the girl enter, then silently shut the door behind her.

Bayermaa looked around and saw the rectangular, small panel in the wall. It was set at a height she could reach. She felt the impulse to go to it and open it. Did just that and saw the shimmering, silver fluid beyond the panel's door.

As if she'd always known how, she plunged her tiny hand into it and greeted the entity that resided beyond it.

She became a new member of the Hive from that moment onward.

* * *

"How are you sleeping?"

"Alright."

Mali looked out the window to the warm, sunny world of Houston in Summer. Dr. Marks might keep the blinds drawn, but she could still see outside. No office buildings across the street to mar the distant view of the Texas coast. Even as she sat on the edge of the exam table. There weren't many people in the Clinic today. It felt almost isolated from the main JSC building just by its being set off on a corner of the campus most astronauts had no dealings with unless it was for medical or physical reasons.

"No bad dreams?"

"No. Can't say that I dream much at all."

It was a lie. She had dreams, just not ones he'd understand. Lying was almost an integral part of her life now. Very much like what she'd have to do when she saw Angela Perry later on and would BS about how her father would be missed. False sympathy for a killing she'd been very happy to get done.

Marks looked at her. Her reticence to discuss the matter was in character.

"How about nightmares?"

_Plenty of those. You wouldn't understand them, doctor._

"No. None of those either."

"You are aware that you are watched in your sleep at Star City?"

Marks saw no change in her reaction. Little doubt she knew how astronauts were scrutinized. There wasn't an astronaut there that didn't know about the 'observations' made on each of them.

"Some comments have been made about there perhaps being underlying, mental issues."

"Trying for making me crash and burn, Doctor?"

Mali said dryly. Watched Marks step closer to her. His eyes finally able to connect with hers.

The first time since she'd arrived a half hour ago. Thankfully, it wasn't one of those occasions where she had to fully undress and wear an exam gown. Was able to wear her street clothes.

Though she got the distinct impression that mattered little to Marks.

"I could have done that many, many months ago, Major. What I'm interested in is your mental fitness for this mission, not your ability- which has not diminished."

Marks looked at her. He had fished for an opening. She knew it, but didn't answer his statement. He was poking at an area that had been of no concern to her. Or to him.

"I can't give you what you're seeking from me, Doctor. You would not be happy with somebody like me."

Mali said, bluntly. She saw the words impact, get absorbed. No change was visible in Marks.

She had no doubt that she'd hit the target of where he wanted to go.

Saw him put the clipboard down on the desk. Stepped in even closer. His hands rested on her knees a moment Before he parted her legs and stepped up to her. Looked at her.

The intent was beyond obvious.

"I could make things ten times easier for you with the Cadre, Major. If you'd let me."

Mali wasn't idealistic enough to openly rebuff his advance. She never held any delusions about her onetime virginity, the loss of it, or the sexual relations that she'd had with some men through the years. Had entertained, even acted on impulses not wise. She knew Marks was being very, very up front and it was a dangerous move for him to make.

Incredibly forward, but not unexpected. She knew he'd mustered up a hell of a lot of courage to even try this. What was intriguing to her was what he thought he could offer her for what she would 'give' in return.

As she felt him lean against her and lay his chin on her shoulder, she had no doubt what the main component would be. Feeling his pounding heart and the hard-on lower down proved that to be true. Money was not an object to either of them. The only thing somebody like Marks could want was something that always eluded men who had looks, money, ability, and brains- love. She spoke quietly into his ear.

"And how would you do that, Doctor?"

"Things that can be said... and done to _ease_ your way. To a point that you would be able to choose from any position in NASA that you could want."

Marks said lowly, before smelling her hair.

Mali felt his hands on the small of her back. Felt a tinge of disgust that he would prostitute himself so openly to have her. Or even think she would want to do the same for him. Even if he was at the Cadre's beck and call, Marks had been wanting an intimate relationship with her for some time. What he did now was only a natural progression in events, for him.

She felt herself responding to him, as much as she knew what he was doing. Wondered where he got the belief that his words could have such 'pull' within the Agency. She couldn't imagine he was so highly-ranked- or indispensable- to the Cadre. Than again, she had no reference to the Cadre like she had with the workings of the Network. The only way to truly know was to call his bluff and take the bait he was offering.

He pulled her against him. Would have loved nothing more than to let the zipper down.

Spoke into her ear, like he'd often dreamed of for so many months. The blood pounded in his ears.

"What I would want from you would be nothing you could not handle."

_Oh, you certainly know that. Don't you? What you __**think**__ I can, or cannot, 'handle'._

The thought sprang to Mali's mind as quickly as Marks' impulsive action. Against her better instinct and professionalism, Mali let her hands travel up his back. Knew exactly what she was doing and what it would cost. Ultimately, she knew what would have to be done. It was something that Marks would not have the foggiest notion about. She pulled away slightly to look at him. Let her legs wrap around his slim hips.

"My price is very steep, Doctor. You are **aware** of what I am capable of doing if I am..._disregarded_?"

An honest smile crossed Marks' features for the first time in a long time. There was no option for full-blown sex. Not here. Especially not in the JSC. Even if the room wasn't bugged, there might still be those who could happen in upon them. Still, he allowed himself to be handled by her. Wondered how in hell somebody like Taggart was able to keep her cared for. The door was locked and the rooms were relatively sound-proof. He knew that from experience. Mainly from hearing other trysts going on while he worked outside. Damn few places were private, or secure for such things. Still, the decades had seen such things come and go. They were both breathing very hard as he spoke quietly.

"I think we both understand each other clearly."

Despite how she felt, there was a cold place inside Mali's mind that responded. Even as she pulled him towards her to kiss him again. It was a place that never steered her wrong. Had saved her life more than once. It would be used, yet again.

_Oh, yes. I'm sure you think so._

* * *

Zach Ambrose's eyes opened for the first time in nearly a year.

A doctor would have looked for a trace of consciousness behind them. Many patients could open their eyes before coming out of a coma. The challenge was to see if there was any coherence behind them.

In his case, who he'd been was gone. There was another entity inside him now.

Months of physical inactivity and loss of muscle mass would have made any normal person collapse into a weak heap on the linoleum floor. It wasn't a problem as he sat up and got off the bed. He barely paid attention to the alarms on the machines that monitored him. They only protested for a few seconds before they resumed normal functions for a seemingly comatose patient.

Zach Ambrose seemed to barely notice the orderly who came in to see about the noise he heard. It didn't prevent his arm from lashing out and connecting the man full in the face. The stocky, white man fell to the ground like a deflated toy. Zach bent down to haul the body from the entrance to his room.

The door quietly was pulled shut behind them with his free hand.

* * *

Dr. Marks felt the hum of the cell phone in his lab coat pocket and frowned.

He had no doubt who it was, as his brown eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Had just finished washing his hands and doing a double-check to make sure nothing looked out-of place. Mali had been able to compose herself- and her clothes- in a brief minute or two. The erase of emotion across her face slammed down like a steel wall. There was nothing about her to suggest anything but a normal exam had taken place. There was still a look in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a woman in a very long time- desire.

Against any and all logic, Douglas Marks knew he was in love. Even as she walked out the door without so much as backward glance.

Drying off his hands, he flipped out his cell.

"Marks."

"How did it go?"

"It went well."

The voice was familiar to him. Even if he didn't exactly want to talk to it right now.

"A very brief appraisal, doctor."

"I don't do details. Sorry."

"The sooner the Major is away from Taggart the better."

The male voice on the other end was brusque. Almost seemed that it would stay that way.

"Do you need anything?"

"No. Not unless you can find somebody to shut my soon-to-be ex-wife up for good."

"Ah, she IS a problem, isn't she?"

The voice on the other end was almost patronizing in tone.

"You have no idea."

Marks knew the wench was trying to grab every bit of money she could get. Alissa Heywood Marks thought he was simply banging interns out-of-state. She had no idea that his sights had always been set higher than the tarts who merely wanted his dick in them. He chalked up his mistake in marriage to buying into her tits and ass long ago without looking hard at her mind. They both might have made it through Med School and had lucrative careers, but he came out with more drive and brains.

"It will be given serious consideration. If only to smooth the way to getting Flynn fully into the fold, and among those we trust."

The doctor looked at the opaque biohazard-tagged bag on the counter. Double-bagged it was, but it needed to be disposed of. A short trip past the Clinic's incinerator would do just the trick. Even the smallest of traces were a problem. The Cadre had more than a few enemies. Even in the heart of NASA itself. Even things as this could be...used.

"Thank you for understanding."

"Keep in touch, doctor. We like updates **and** progress."

Marks said nothing and clicked his phone shut. A plan already formed in his mind to have a look at Chuck Taggart's medical chart. His age, for one, was getting larger. There was also the fact that Ed Scrivens no longer ruled here. Given the Synths trouble for nearly the past year, Marks knew things had been getting overlooked. Especially for an astronaut too used to calling his own shots in the past.

It was getting time to have a fresh view at things.

* * *

Kurt plucked off some fresh herbs to sprinkle onto the simple omelet he was making for himself for dinner. He took an appreciative whiff of the butter it was being cooked in, before the oils from the herbs added to the aroma. His hand took up his glass of white wine. Had just gotten it to his lips when the phone rang.

It wasn't normal for him to scowl, but a missed few seconds were the difference between perfectly cooked and eggy rubber. As much as he might not like it, Kurt tried to juggle both at once. Appearances would have to be let go as one-handed omelet folding wasn't his speciality. The CallerID came up as 'private call'.

"Hello?"

"Where did you take him, you bastard?!"

Kurt blinked at Claire Ambrose's faltering voice. It took a few seconds for him to register that it was her. Tried to mollify her, even as her distress indicated that she was beyond it.

"Took who?"

"My son!"

Kurt's mouth dropped open. The injection had worked and also brought Zach back awake.

"I haven't been in to see Zach at all today."

"You bastard! I know you wanted to do something to him! All this time, I thought you wanted him to get well!"

"Claire, slow down! What happened to Zach? I honestly don't know!"

Claire Ambrose's voice calmed down to a slightly less frenetic pitch.

"The hospital says he just walked out. Said he took down a male nurse to do it."

"Walked out?"

Kurt knew he sounded like a dope. His mind whirled with the fact that months in a coma would have turned Zach Ambrose's body into that of a weakling. He likely didn't even have enough muscle tone to walk, let alone take somebody down and leave the hospital. Even the shot wouldn't have conferred the ability to walk without help in any case.

He heard Claire begin to cry anew. His hand lifted the omelet pan from the heat. A flick slid the food onto a waiting plate.

"He's gone, Kurt. My baby's gone!"

Kurt Mendel looked down at the omelet. Had to wonder if he wouldn't be perfectly cooked, like the food was now.

* * *

There was no moon to illuminate. It was in its 'dark phase'. The lights of the freeway had faded into the distance the further one went away from Houston. Due to light pollution, one couldn't even make out the black orb against the night sky. The ancients' knew the phases like the rest of the natural world they lived in. Modern man relied on his machines and timepieces to do that in place of natural instinct.

Zach Ambrose walked down the road in the orderly's clothes, cars whizzing past him and buffeting him as he navigated the shoulder. Any normal person would have considered it suicide, but for him it wasn't of concern. He knew that somebody would be by shortly to pick him up and take him 'home'.

Unlike his old, organic memories of his mother and their house in Houston, what Zach Ambrose now was had a different idea of what 'home' was. He also knew where it was and that it was some distance from this place. He was being called. They all were. They were going to gather for the first time since they were created.

Zach never turned to note the black van that came up behind him and clung to the shoulder. He simply stopped and turned. He heard the mechanical chirping from the two men that got out. He understood and responded back in kind.

As cars whizzed past, he calmly got into the van with them and was taken away. Down the road. Towards the west.

* * *

The TV in the Taggart house was turned on and, for the first time in a long time, its residents had sat down to watch a program. The first time it had been on, it hadn't garnered much watching. Paige hadn't cottoned much to the _fiction_ as so much in the house revolved around _science_. Hence, she had ruled the viewing most nights. Even when what was now on became a series. For them to see it once more was, in its way, a flashback to the time before.

To see the '**Battlestar Galactica**' mini-series once more was like its own sort of confirmation that time was moving forward. As much as those present might not want it. It was also hard to not look at the sultry blonde Cylon and look at her the same way they would regard a Plastic. Save that most Plastics weren't bombshells like that character was.

"You know, you would make a damn good 'Starbuck'."

Neil said to Mali as the character he was referring to made its first appearance.

_Oh yeah. The woman who fucks around on the man she loves, drinks hard, and has mind baggage galore?_

The thought got replaced with Mali looking back at Neil.

"Really? I liked to think myself more like Roslyn, in aspects. And who do you see yourself most as?"

"Helo. He's gonna have one hell of woman in his life."

The name made Taggart stifle a laugh.

"Good God, all we need is you as a closet, Plastic-lover."

"OK, if that's so damn funny, who would you see yourself most like?"

Neil countered. He enjoyed the banter. In a couple months, there would be very little of it- at Harvard.

"None of these bozos."

Chuck shot back.

"Adama."

Mali said. Knew Taggart looked at her.

"For the simple fact that you've been around the block a lot more than most."

"Hon, for the record, we ALL have that to our accounts."

"True, but you do strike me as being kin to the 'Old Man'."

Mali turned and smiled at him. Accepted a peck on the lips before they resumed watching the show.

Neil's eyes lit up.

"Hey, what do you think of Kurt being a hell of a lot like Baltar?"

The three people in front of the TV digested that a moment, then burst out laughing. To them, it was so close to reality that even they didn't know how close the comparison was.


End file.
